


Figure Drawing

by BluebeardsWife



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 16:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5056189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebeardsWife/pseuds/BluebeardsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short AU drabble.  Club owner Brendan wants to pose nude for artist Ste.  Fluff, implied sex, not explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figure Drawing

Ste looked at the moustached man in shock. He had come to Chez Chez to ask if they would be interested in purchasing some of his work, and instead he got this. 

“What?” he said, leaving his mouth agape.

“I’d like to pose nude for you,” Brendan repeated. “It would be a present for my wife. Strictly professional, of course. I’d pay handsomely.”

He flashed a winning grin at Ste for a brief moment, and the little sniff that came after offered the only hint of nervousness.

“Well?” he prompted at Ste’s continued silence.

“Okay,” Ste finally mouthed.  “Yeah, so you don’t wanna buy me art then?”

Brendan smiled, cocking his head slightly to the side, and narrowed his eyes.

“Your studio? Wendesday evening?” he said, ignoring Ste’s awkwardness.  “Good lad.” He patted Ste’s shoulder, and started putting away some glasses behind the bar.

“O-okay,” Ste muttered to himself before seeing himself out.

 

* * *

 

Ste’s hand trembled as he started to press charcoal to paper.  A dark, wobbly streak besmirched the tan page of his sketchpad, betraying his nerves.  He lifted the large pad off the easel, and flipped to the next page with shaking fingers. He let out an innocent little cough before glancing over at his model.

Brendan was sitting on a chair, his nude body framed by a large, black cloth that was draped across the wall behind him.  He sat sideways in the chair, legs spread apart, one arm resting on the back of it, and the other lying relaxed in his lap, calling, nay begging, for the eye to slide down it toward the place where his thighs met.

Ste tore his eyes away just as Brendan’s gravelly voice reached his ear.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Ste said, sounding more confident than he felt. “Just warming up!”

Ste had done many figure drawings using reference photographs, and he’d even drawn a few models in art school, but having a naked stranger in the intimate setting of his tiny flat / studio somehow made him rather uncomfortable. He had agreed to do the piece because he needed the money.  He would have been much more comfortable with a portrait, but if he was going to be a real artist, then he had to get comfortable looking at naked people.  He swept a lock of hair from his eyes with his fingers, thereby smearing charcoal across his forehead, sighed deeply, and looked back at Brendan. 

_Concentrate_. _Start with the basic form and gesture._ As Ste surveyed the lines of Brendan’s body, his hand mimicked the flow on paper.  _A curved line going through the torso, crossed with a gentle arch of the shoulders. Angular lines for legs, an oval for the head._ He resisted the urge to start with the moustache, a ridiculous bushel of hair adorning Brendan’s face, that nonetheless did not diminish his attractiveness. Instead he started on the curve of his shoulder, noting where the collar bone began and ended, imagining his hand gliding across the pale skin, feeling the firm muscle underneath. Ste’s fingers held on to the charcoal stick lightly, moving smoothly across the page, leaving a seamless outline of Brendan’s form.  

Ste gulped whenever their eyes would meet for a moment.  As he focused on Brendan’s chest, outlining his pecs on paper, he could feel Brendan’s gaze burning into him.  The man did not take his eyes off Ste, and Ste felt like he was the one who was exposed, nude and vulnerable under his scrutiny. His fingers trembled now and then, but he was always able to regain his composure, focusing on body parts rather than the totality of the gorgeous man sitting naked in front of him.  After a while, the lines and smudges on the paper started to form a recognizable shape.  Ste picked up his white chalk and focused his attention on the spots where the light hit Brendan’s skin, translating the highlights onto his page. The tip of his shoulder, one knee, the top of his thigh, his bottom lip.  As Ste noticed the light bouncing off the pupil of Brendan’s deep blue eye, their gazes met again, and Ste felt warmth spread across his whole body, starting somewhere low in his abdomen. He chuckled nervously, and Brendan laughed too, a deep, warm laugh that only made Ste more flustered. 

Brendan raised his eyebrows and asked, “Are we done?”

“Almost.  It takes time if you want a good one, you know. Stop moving!” Ste was surprised at his own assertiveness, and Brendan seemed taken aback as well.  He nodded and readjusted himself, but his posture was off, and, frustrated, Ste couldn’t continue his drawing.

“Move your knee a bit to the left, yeah?” he said and Brendan obeyed.

“Like so?”

“Other left! And your arm is too bent now!”

Brendan made a few feeble attempts at restoring his pose.

“No, let me do it.” Without thinking, he approached Brendan and grabbed his arm to reposition it.  Their eyes met again as Brendan looked up through hooded eyelids.  Ste didn’t know how long he just stood there, feeling the warmth of Brendan’s body, staring at him, but he was torn out of his reverie by Brendan’s voice: “You alright?”

Ste jumped away and stuttered an apology, but his eyes, trying to find the floor, inadvertently ended up looking straight at Brendan’s crotch, and he became even more flustered, rushing towards his easel, accidentally knocking it over, and falling down across it. Brendan’s laugh echoed through the room, as he rushed to Ste’s aid.

The view from below only made Ste’s face flush harder. Brendan reached out a hand and helped Ste pull himself up.

“Beautiful, Steven.” Brendan said, without taking his eyes off Ste. “Just beautiful.”

“W-what?” Ste stood before him, still winded from his fall, his hair in disarray, and a dumb look on his face.

“The drawing,” Brendan clarified, pointing at the not quite finished work on the ground. “It’s beautiful.”

 “I only draw what I see.”                     

Brendan had started to walk away and get dressed, but stopped in his tracks and turned back toward Ste.  Ste’s face flushed again with embarrassment, but he kept Brendan’s gaze. This man was clearly flirting with him, and, married or not, if he was up for more, so was Ste.

“Are you flirting with me, Steven?” Brendan stepped so close to Ste that Ste could feel his breath on his cheek.

“What if I am?” Ste responded, smiling coyly.

Before he knew it, Brendan’s lips were pressed up against his, and he felt himself pushed backwards, his back slamming into a wall.  His lips seemed to part of their own volition, allowing Brendan’s tongue to meet his own, both his hands buried in Brendan’s dark hair, feeling Brendan’s nakedness through the soft fabric of Ste’s tracksuit. Despite the initial force of their encounter, Brendan turned out to be a remarkably gentle and attentive lover, using his lips and tongue in ways Ste had only dreamed of, caressing his body as though Ste himself was a priceless work of art. The evening ended in a blur of pleasure, and Ste fell asleep, exhausted, in Brendan’s arms. 

When he awoke the next day, Brendan and his drawing were gone, and a small wad of cash on the nightstand was the only indication that the night hadn't been a steamy dream.


End file.
